


Strange Familiars

by Couyfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Coffee, Crowley is a dog dad, Familiar Juliet, Familiars, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Mooseley, Witch Sam, juliet - Freeform, spell casting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 07:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Couyfish/pseuds/Couyfish
Summary: Tired of Dean making fun of him for not being a real witch yet, Sam secretly casts a spell to summon his familiar. Before it can arrive, Sam runs into the stranger that just moved into town...and happens to own a big dog.Written for the FicFacers 2019 charity auction! Thanks for your donation!
Relationships: Crowley (Supernatural)/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63
Collections: Fic Facer$ 2019





	Strange Familiars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karategrl80](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karategrl80/gifts).

> Hi Karategrl80! I always love reading your comments on me and Threshie's fics. You're awesome! I know you love Juliet, so she plays a big part! <3

Sam always spent a couple of hours every morning in his herb garden, gazing out the old tall glass windows down at the main street. The house that his parents had left for him and his brother Dean was two stories tall, and Sam always liked people-watching in the small town. Everyone kept a routine. He'd see them leaving for work in the morning, meeting with friends and other normal people stuff. Sam wasn't a normal person, though.

He was a witch. Well, witch in training. He hadn't gotten his familiar yet. Dean had, in the form of a fluffy black cat that he simply called Baby. She and Dean would go out into the large woods behind their orchard, Baby sitting on his shoulder.

Sam had been patiently waiting for his familiar to appear, but it was starting to become the family joke. It was more annoying than hurtful.

Dean would chat with Baby, telling her all about how his little brother Sammy wasn't a real witch until he got his familiar.

Sam watched his brother head out that morning as he clipped off little leaves from his belladonna plant.

As soon as his brother disappeared around the end of the street, Sammy wiped his hands and hurried back downstairs.

He dropped to his knees and dug out the wooden box he had hidden the week before, sitting it roughly down on the old oak dining table.

Inside, he had stowed everything he needed for a summoning spell. One to summon his familiar early. If Dean found out, he’d laugh at him, so he had to cast it when his big brother wasn’t home.

He hoped that he's be able to get his familiar today, then pretend it happened naturally and brag to Dean.

Maybe he'd get a cat, too! Though Sam would really prefer a dog. Last Sunday, he’d seen a new man move in down the street. He was a short handsome guy in a black suit, but that wasn’t what Sam liked about him. No, it was the man’s dog. He’d only seen it from a distance and Sam already wished that he could bumped into them in the streets and pet her.

The dog was a big black, velvety soft looking pit bull. She was half as tall as her owner and very muscular looking. She would have been scary if she didn’t have one of the happiest walks that Sam had ever seen. The dog trotted gleefully along when she went for walkies and never seemed angry at passersby. Then again, everyone darted across the street to avoid her and her black suited owner. Obviously, the man took good care of her though. Sam respected that.

If he got a dog, he’d be happy to introduce it to the big black pit bull. It would be a nice excuse to talk to the handsome man, too.

Familiars always arrived on the hour that the witch had been born, so Sam had most of the day. He'd been born in the evening. Luckily, Dean wouldn't be home until nine that night.

Sam carefully arranged the spell components, pausing every so often to rub his hands together. Warm, sensitive hands were best for casting magic.

Taking a deep breath, Sam lifted up a small cauldron of witch's salt. It was a fancy name for salt that had been blackened with coal. 

Slowly, he began sprinkling the salt in a circle, expanding it out into a spiral until it reached the end of the table. As he went, he spoke softly to himself.

"My friend, my kin, here I am, alive again," Sam chanted, sitting the cauldron aside and picking up the small yellow rose he'd bought the day before. He pricked his finger on a thorn lightly, and laid the bloodied rose down in the center of the spiral.

"At my side, match my stride, I want you -- need you -- as my guide."

Sam pressed a finger to the end of the spiral, holding his breath with anticipation.

Nothing happened at first, then the salt spiral ignited, sparking brightly until it reached the rose. The rose glowed yellow, then fell away to ash.

Sam's heart sank. Had it worked?

He'd have to wait until 5:37 PM to find out.

~ ~ ~

Sam paced around the house all morning, anxious and fretting. The spell seemed like it would have worked.

At noon, Sam decided go out and grab an espresso, then visit the library to distract himself.

He had already read all of the silly mundane books on magic, but the librarian had promised that they would be getting some books on herbs in this week and Sam was a bit of nerd when it came to his expansive herb garden.

As he waited for his coffee to be made, a big dog across the street caught his attention. It was the pit bull and her handsome owner!

The dog was comically large beside the short man, padding along happily on her leash and sniffling at everything they passed. The sun glinted off of a purple rhinestone-studded collar on her neck. Sam smiled as they crossed the street, on their way to the coffee shop.

Hopefully they were heading to the shop. Petting a dog always brightened his day.

But as soon as the hulking black pit bull stepped one paw into the shop, the redheaded lady behind the counter waved to the dog and her human.

"Sir! No dangerous breeds. I'm sorry, your dog is going to have to wait outside, sir."

"Dangerous?" Sam asked, frowning at the woman behind the counter. He gestured to the dog. "She looks totally friendly."

"Sorry, Sam. I don't want people to get scared," Charlie told him honestly, clearly bothered by the rule herself. Someone must have complained -- probably the woman standing by the counter, cringing away from the big dog.

The dog's owner gave a little shrug, gently pulling the leash to lead the dog back outside.

"Your loss," he added lightly.

Sam followed after him, barely remembering to grab his double shot cinnamon dulce soy milk latte off of the counter.

"Wait!" He called after the man, easily catching up to them. The pit bull looked up at him excitedly, her tail wagging. Sam's heart melted at the sight, and he leaned to pat her hand.

"What a good girl!" He told her as the big dog eagerly pressed her head up into his hand, whining happily. Her big pink tongue flopped out of her mouth as he scratched behind her ears.

"Usually, you're supposed to ASK to pet someone's dog," the man remarked.

Sam pulled his hand away, blushing furiously and offering it to the man instead. He had an English accent. It was unexpected and Sam blushed more as he couldn’t help finding it sexy. Damn his brother and his James Pond movies.

"I'm so sorry. I'm Sam. Your d-dog is adorable."

The man smiled knowingly, patting his dog on the head.

"Her name is Juliet."

"Hello Juliet," Sam said, patting her head. To his surprise, the pit bull planted her butt down and lifted a paw up. Sam's eyes threatened to tear as he shook her big paw.

The best damn dog he’d ever met. His new familiar would have a lot to live up to.

"Well, it's been a pleasure Sam, but we still need to find coffee."

"I can buy it for you." Sam stood back up and took out his phone to jot down the order.

"I...thank you. I was hoping that they rolled out the cinnamon dulce syrup by now. If they have, I'd like a soy latte with that. And Juliet would like a sugar cookie."

Giddy, Sam nodded and ducked back inside the shop.

A sugar cookie wasn't good for the dog, but that's what her owner wanted. Sam eyed the dog treat jar on the counter. Maybe Charlie would give him one.

Aside from giving him a smile, Charlie didn’t comment on his ordering a second latte and dropping a dog treat into his pocket. She knew how much Sammy loved dogs. He wasted no time rushing back outside.

"I got it," Sam grinned, hurrying back to where Juliet and her owner had been.

His heart sank as he looked around, a coffee in each hand. They were gone.

~ ~ ~

By the time Sam got home again, he had made himself angry thinking about the coffee shop. The man had just walked off after Sam bought him a coffee!

Cute dog or not, he was kind of a jerk.

And he owed Sam six bucks in cinnamon dulce latte — and a new day dream about going for a walk with him and his adorable dog.

Clearing off the table where he had done the familiar summoning spell, Sam got out his laptop and opened his digital book of shadows. He had a tome, too, but the digital one had a search function.

"Curses," he murmured as he typed it in.

Most of the curses were serious stuff, so he kept browsing.

He just wanted something lightweight. Like slamming a finger in a door, or tripping on the edge of the rug.

Figuring that he shouldn't let good coffee go to waste, Sam drank the second espresso as well.

By the time 5:47 PM rolled around, Sam was anxious and pacing, jumping to check every bit of movement that passed by the window. At one point he saw a squirrel darting across the orchard to an apple tree, but he was fairly certain his familiar wouldn’t be a squirrel.

At 6, Sam was beginning to believe that he just wasn't cut out to be a witch.

He went upstairs to his garden, sighing at the beautiful pink sunset outside the old windows and happily growing pots of herbs. Maybe he hadn't cast the spell right?

Sam clipped some mugwort as he pondered over the steps to the spell. The yellow rose was for trust and the spiral was what his mom had used to summon things…

A blur of black caught his eye down on the street. Sam glanced and spotted the jerk from the coffee shop standing on the street right in front of the brothers' house. Throwing his scissors aside, he hurried downstairs to give him a piece of his mind.

"You!" Sam called to him, hurrying down the cobbled front steps to the yard gate. "Why'd you leave? I got you a coffee!"

"Sam," the man remarked, expression a bit sad. He held up what Sam realized was his dog's leash. "I don't suppose you've seen darling Juliet?"

Staring at the leash, all anger in Sam vanished. Juliet was missing?

"Uh, no. I'm sorry."

“I couldn’t keep hold of her. She must have seen a squirrel or something,” the man told him, frowning. He looked over Sam’s house curiously, hazel eyes pausing to take in the Victorian architecture with mild interest. The man nodded in approval, looking into the yard. His eyes narrowed as he pointed to something.

"That's her collar."

“Really?” Sam asked, leaning over the fence to pick it up. Sure enough, it was the cute rhinestone-studded purple collar from before. “I-I did see a squirrel awhile ago.”

They both stepped into the yard, the man taking the collar sadly. Sam led the stranger around the house.

"I'm sure she's okay. We have an orchard back here, then the woods. The road is pretty far away. Um, I never got your name."

“Crowley. I just moved in the old MacLeod manor. My mother left it to me when she decided to move back to Scotland,” he added dryly.

“Scotland. Wow,” Sam mumbled. That might help explain the way the man had an English accent but… why English and not Scottish...? He’d have to ask about it later, they had a dog to find!

“And you live here, Sam? This is a very old house. Lots of history.”

Sam glanced down at him, surprised.

“It’s been in my family for a really long time. On my mother’s side.”

“Ah, so you’re a Winchester then,” Crowley marveled, gazing up at him. Those hazel eyes sure were shiny.

Sam nodded, feeling shy suddenly. The Winchesters had lived in the town for over two hundred years, so it wasn’t surprising that somebody knew the name, Sam just felt out gunned since he didn’t know anything about Crowley’s home and family. Dean probably would. MacLeod, MacLeod… Had his mom ever mentioned the MacLeods?

“Juliet!” Crowley called, looking around at the sprawling orchard trees. Sam jumped when a loud bark sounded somewhere. After a second, Juliet came rocketing out of the trees, bounding happily up to her owner. Worried that she’d knock him over, Sam put a hand on Crowley’s back.

But Juliet stopped at her master’s feet, licking happily at his hands as he put the collar back onto her.

“There’s a good girl,” he cooed, rubbing her ears. “Did you chase that evil squirrel? 

Figuring that she'd earned it, Sam leaned down and patted Juliet on the back. She looked up at him, tongue hanging out of her mouth, and Sam heard a voice in his head.

"I tried to get here on time, but I got distracted, Sam! I had to vanquish the evil tree climbers! Daddy wanted me to!"

The cheery girl voice obviously didn't belong to Crowley. Sam gawked down at the pit bull.

"Uh," he managed, turning to Crowley, trying not to panic. "Do you want to come in for a coffee?"

"Of course he does, Sam! He likes you. He told me so!" Juliet hopped happily from foot to foot, circling her owner.

But Crowley just gave a little bored shrug.

"I thought I was the one who owed you a coffee. I left earlier, remember?"

“Why?” Sam asked, distracted.

“I got a call from my mother.”

Sam stared down at the dog. His familiar belonged to somebody else? What the heck?

"I, uh, if you come in, I'll call it even."

Crowley regarded him for a long moment, raising an eyebrow. At last, he cracked a knowing smile, resting a hand on Juliet's head.

"It's a deal."

~ ~ ~

As Crowley paced the dining room, Juliet in tow, Sam pressed down on the French press. What was he supposed to do now?

It wasn't like he could steal Crowley's dog. The brunette frowned to himself at the thought. Dean was going to laugh in his face.

"You said you know this house?" He prompted, calling to the other room.

"Mother certainly did. She said there was a Mary Winchester here, once upon a time. They hated each other."

As Sam stepped back into the dining room, he smiled shyly and offered him a mug of coffee.

"Yeah, that'd be my mom. Any idea why they didn’t get along?"

Crowley looked him over with renewed interest, taking a sip from his coffee. He simply smiled, leaving Sam’s question answered, taking a seat at the table. Sam did the same.

What did that look mean?

"Sam! Look at me!" Juliet's childish voice said behind his ear. Sam glanced and saw the big dog was charging across the couch, leaping off the end.

"Juliet, darling," Crowley sighed, turning and patting his leg. "Don't ruin the furniture."

"I don't think she can," Sam laughed nervously. "My brother's cat has tried. Dean put a spell--" Sam cut himself out, realizing that Crowley might find it weird if he started talking about magic. "C-cover. He put a c-cover on it."

Crowley looked at the obviously uncovered couch pointedly.

Slowly, he turned back to Sam.

"I don't suppose that you're a witch, Sam?"

"Witch? Ha ha," Sam forced, spilling his coffee as he hurried to sip it. "Ow," he mumbled, shaking the hot coffee off of his fingers.

"My mother is a witch," Crowley continued conversationally, patting Juliet's head as she rested it on his leg.

"She is?” 

“So she says,” the man said, stroking the pit bull's ears. They were pointed, and Sam had to wonder if her owner had had them cut, which was a cruel practice in the brunette’s mind. He was so relieved to hear that Crowley was familiar with witchcraft, though, that he decided to ask about Juliet’s ears later.

“Oh thank God! I didn't know how to explain that your dog’s my familiar! I did a spell to summon my familiar, because my brother makes fun of me for being a ‘late bloomer,’ and it was supposed to arrive at 5:47 -- that's the hour I was born -- but..." Sam trailed off, catching the confused stare Crowley wad giving him. "You're.. you're not a witch, are you?”

"No." Crowley shook his head slowly.

"Oh." Sam took a sip of coffee, wondering what in the world he was going to do now. Great, just great. The man probably thought he was insane!

"Prove it," Crowley told him.

"What?"

"I know my dog and I know what she can or can't do. If she's your 'familiar,' prove it."

Sam stared at him, blushing.

"I just met her. We haven't bonded yet."

With a little knowing sigh, Crowley sipped his coffee.

Sam glanced at Juliet, who was sitting like a good girl beside her owner, watching them.

"Hey," he told the dog nervously, waving a hand at her. Juliet stopped panting, listening attentively. "Can you go grab a book from upstairs? It's green and it's sitting on the end of my bed. The title’s ‘Herbs in the Burbs.’"

Crowley snickered, looking down at his dog, but when Juliet darted off up the stairs, he stared after her, baffled.

"Sure thing, Sam!" Juliet told Sam eagerly.

Relieved that she had understood him at all, Sam tried to be patient as they waited for her.

"So, your mom is a w-witch?" He asked Crowley, taking a sip from his coffee.

"I'm...not sure," the other man replied, eying Sam suspiciously.

Juliet returned happily with the big green book held carefully in her mouth, trotting over proudly to drop it on the table in front of Sam.

"Good girl!" Sam beamed, rubbing her jowls. 

“Can I have the treat now, Sam? Can I, can I? I can smell it and it smells SO GOOD! Peanut butter’s my favorite!” The pit bull thought to him, hopping up and down in place.

Sam blinked, remembering the treat that he stowed in his pocket. He dug it out and offered it to her on his palm, smiling.

“Good girl, Juliet. You did awesome.”

The dog lapped the treat up in one bite, barked and padded back over to sit by Crowley's chair again.

Juliet definitely seemed to like and obey her owner. Sam rested his hands on either side of the book, uncomfortable under the short man's gaze.

"Look, I've never heard of this happening before. I don't want to steal your dog or anything, but familiars are particular. It's not like I can get another one. We’re born to match in each life and we’ll die at the same time and…yeah."

“Clearly, you'll just have to go out with me. Say, to coffee?"

"Oh, uh." Sam's face flushed red.

That wasn't a bad idea...for the time being. Sam had a couple of questions (mostly about Juliet) that he wanted answered, but the man was handsome and willing to overlook the part about Sam being a witch. Which was surprisingly hard to find.

"Not into men?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow at the long pause in conversation.

"That's not it," Sam chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. I'd love to get coffee. Just don't walk off on me again."

The hazel eyed man leaned on the table and smiled at Sam cheekily.

"Not even a possibility."


End file.
